by Dee, Bonnie
He stood between her legs, eyes feasting on the lacy bra and panties she’d bought this morning.
“My, my, aren’t you full of surprises?” His voice was rough with arousal, and just the sound of it brought her nipples to peak and had pure heat boiling in her core. “You got those when I wasn’t looking, didn’t you?”
She nodded, beyond words as his heated gaze traveled her body, leaving behind a wash of goosebumps, followed by liquid fire. Who was she to tell him she had a weakness for slutty lingerie?
She swallowed and willed herself to speak. “You, naked, now.” That was it, all she could manage.
He smiled, a crafty, hungry wolf’s smile. “Hmmm. Not quite yet.” He knelt between her legs, and removed her socks slowly, as if he had all the time in the world and she wasn’t burning up inside. Then he ran a finger up her instep, dipping down to place an openmouthed kiss on each arch before moving to her ankles, then her calves, peppering kisses and caresses that had her arching off the bed, breath frozen in her lungs.
Her thighs trembled as he slid his palms up to the elastic band of her panties, paused, and then continued their northern trek. His still-clothed body pressed against hers, pushing her into the mattress as his hands and mouth closed in on her breasts.
He traced her nipples with broad fingers, breath coasting across the tips and inflaming her even more.
“Look at me, Brenna.” It was a command, not a request.
She lifted her head, met his eyes and was immediately entrapped. He held her gaze as his head dropped, as his mouth covered her nipple, suckling her through the thin material. The sensation of his hot tongue and the scratchy lace sent quivers through her. Oh God, she couldn’t come from having her nipples sucked, could she? Then he expertly applied his teeth, nipping with enough force to send her into a mini-climax, her pussy pulsing in time with each tiny bite. And still she couldn’t break the thrall his eyes held her in.
He switched to her other breast, building her tension to a fine point again until she shook against him.
Pulling away, sliding down, he murmured against her stomach, still keeping eye contact, “I’ve wanted to do that since yesterday morning.” Then he was skimming her panties off and his fingers parted the lips of her pussy. “Now I want to taste this more than anything.” His gaze left hers as he lowered his face. She heard him breathe deeply, inhaling her essence, felt the exhalation against her exposed clit, and clutched the bedspread as if it would support her against his explicit exploration.
His tongue slid against her with unerring, feathery delicacy, eliciting another shudder of pleasure. Gods, she could die from this. Then his blunt finger slid into her pussy, stroking, questing, until he found her G-spot. When she lunged against him he slowed to a torturous pace, flicking her clit with his tongue as he thrust into her with the one finger, then two, stretching her before he rubbed against her sweet spot again.
She arched off the bed, consumed by the frissons of pleasure arcing across every nerve in her body. He took advantage of her position, latching onto her clit as he drove into her with his fingers, shooting her into an orgasm which made the first one feel like a warm-up. She dropped to the bed, spent, body singing with pleasure and satisfaction.
Brenna heard the rustle of clothing but was too damned sated to even lift her head. Then Donovan was lying naked beside her, skin burning hers, his hand coasting down the front of her body from her collarbone to the top of her pelvic bone, then back again. He was gentling her, she realized, bringing her down. She supposed she should be grateful he hadn’t just pushed into her and taken what he so rightly deserved. Honestly, she was too damn happy to care.
“Hmmm, let’s take care of that, shall we?” His hands deftly unclasped the front hook of her bra. She allowed him to manipulate her arms, too lost in the blissful lassitude of a great orgasm to protest … or even help.
Then his mouth was on her bare breasts and she was arching into him, pure lust raging again. When his lips slanted over hers, his tongue thrusting against hers, giving her back a taste of herself as his cock brushed against her pussy, she lost it, plain and simple.
In a purely instinctual move, she aligned her body with his, wrapped her legs around him and pulled him deep inside.
“Brenna!” he shouted against her mouth, then dropped to her neck, feasting as he drove into her, one commanding thrust after another. She held on for the ride, fingernails digging into his back, scoring it as her pants, his groans peppered the air.
He angled his body so his cock speared into her at a different angle, sending entirely new sensations through her. She gasped and dug her heels into his ass, forcing him harder, deeper, until she was mindless against him, clawing and tearing, her body slicked with sweat, pulse thundering in her ears.
Then her heart stopped, literally stopped, as he dug his teeth into the sinew between neck and shoulder and pumped into her ferociously, tipping her over the edge once again.
As she climaxed, she screamed his name, and he answered by shouting “lhiannan.”
Chapter Five
“Gods, Brenna, that was fucking amazing.”
Donovan knew it wasn’t “cool” to be so in awe, but there was no way in hell he was going to let what they’d just shared pass without comment. If she chose to blow it off, he’d find a different, more subtle way to pursue her. And pursue her he would. He recognized what he’d shouted in the heat of passion, what his subconscious demanded.
Brenna Kennedy was his mate.
He hadn’t thought he’d find another woman to love after Angeline, and never anyone to mate with, not after so many years. Her death at the hands of the Nazis had wrenched the heart right out of him and even though it had been a heated if brief interlude, it left room for only his family and Jenalee. And now, now his world had expanded to include Brenna.
He didn’t question the gift fate had handed him, just accepted it with wholehearted gratitude and more than a bit of wonder.
She exhaled happily against his neck, breath tantalizing his still-sensitive nerves. “Yeah, it was.”
And with her simple statement, he knew she was his. She was too strong a woman to simply accept being mated, but he didn’t mind wooing. In fact, he looked forward to it, and their enforced togetherness over the Sorhineth would only make it easier.
“Wanna do it again?” he teased, nuzzling her ear. He was serious, but would understand if she chose sleep instead.
“Ummm,” she hummed, snuggling in deeper against his chest.
Well, that answered his question. He smiled against her neck and slid off the bed, bringing her with him.
“Huh?” her voice was muzzy with sleep and fulfillment.
“Need to get under the covers, lhiannan.”
She curled into his embrace, totally limp as he pulled away the bedspread and sheets, and then tucked her in. Sliding beside her, he spooned her, pulling her lush ass against his semi-erect cock and cupping a breast in his palm. Yeah. He could definitely get used to this.
* * * *
Freakin’ phone, Brenna thought grouchily as it rang in her ear for the second time in two mornings. A strong, hairy male arm snaked over her body to grasp the receiver.
“Thank you,” a husky voice, warm and devastating, cruised along her nerve endings.
She realized two things in a split second. Donovan Callahan was naked at her back, and she’d spent an unforgettable night in his arms. What she was going to do about it was the hardest question she’d ever had to answer.
His morning hard-on prodded her ass as he returned the phone to the nightstand, sending a thrill through her that peaked her nipples and had pure heat pooling in her core.
What was she going to do? She’d heard how easily he dismissed his sexual relationship with Jenalee. Who was she to think she’d be any different? And why did she care? She should accept this gift, take advantage of it for as long as it lasted, and then move on with her life. So she turned in his arms and did just that.
Donovan’s face was sleepy, but his eyes were eagle-sharp as he looked down at her, one eyebrow lifted in question.
She smiled, reached beneath the sheets and grasped his cock. It was smooth, hard, living steel beneath her fingertips. A moan broke from his lips as she palmed his length.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
Tossing off the covers, she slithered down his body, loving the way her own softened and quickened by the just the feel of him. She could definitely get used to this.
She took him in her mouth, the width of him stretching her lips. All this had been inside her?
His groan of pure male fulfillment sent ripples of pleasure over her. She’d always enjoyed giving a man head, tasting his essence, but somehow this was more, bigger, better. It was the control, the absolute power you held over the person thrashing beneath you.
She slipped her mouth down his cock and tickled his balls with her fingers, then sucked back up.
His hands fisted in her hair. He let her set the pace, but his fingers against her scalp, the knowledge he could take over at any moment, titillated her, made her hotter than she’d ever been in this position.
“More, lhiannan,” he rasped, hands clenching as she took him deep, deeper until his cockhead pressed against the soft flesh of her palate.
“Jesus.” His agonized whisper coasted over her skin as if it were a living thing, caressing her voluptuously.
She swooped in faster, feeling the sweat forming on his thighs, the fine shudder rolling through his body, and reveled in the power she held.
He thrust into her mouth. “I’m sorry,” he panted, hands tightening until she was unable to move her head. “Sorry…”
She knew what he meant and sucked hard with each withdrawal, tonguing the head of his cock as he dove back in. That she could drive a man like Donovan past the breaking point excited her, pushed her higher until she was on the verge of climaxing herself.
Then he was coming, salty semen spurting into her mouth, overwhelming her senses as she reached for her own peak … and found it. She licked the length of him as her pussy muscles spasmed, as her clit pulsed. He reached down, pulling her up his body with pure masculine strength until she lay atop him, quivering. She’d never felt anything like this. Never.
His tongue laved her lips, licking the last of his cum from the corner of her mouth, then curled deep, loving her mouth until she thought she’d come all over again. When his hands cupped her ass and lifted her, she wondered dazedly if he was ready to go again. But he had other things on his mind as he continued pulling her up his body until her thighs straddled his shoulders and her pussy was poised at his decadent mouth.
“Grab the headboard, Brenna.” His voice was sultry, hot, everything she’d always wanted to hear. And when his lips closed over her clit, she grasped the wooden headrail and held on for dear life.
His talented tongue teased her as his fingers drifted over her pussy lips, parting them before plunging inside. Her juices lubricated his fingers, and he stopped toying with her clit long enough to say, “Gods, woman, you’re so sweet, so hot, so right.” And then his mouth was back on her, suckling her deep.
His other hand burrowed between her cheeks, one finger dipping to collect her wetness before lubricating her ass and then slipping inside. Her fingers dug into the wood as she threw her head back, nerves screaming. He lapped at her clit, fingers plunging into her dripping channel and ass in tortuous tandem. Pure, raw sensation tore through her, and she clenched down on him, grinding her pussy against his face, driving his fingers deeper. She thrust against him again and again until her climax surged through her and she came, screaming his name.
* * * *
“We’re behind on time,” Brenna reminded him as he nuzzled her neck from behind. They’d showered together, both too sated to do much more than wash the other’s back and play.
“Suddenly I don’t feel the burning need to get to the City.” His voice rumbled over her, exciting her all over again. She hated to be the voice of reason, but…
“I know,” he said, nipping her nape, almost as if he’d heard her thoughts. “But it doesn’t stop me from wanting you, Brenna Kennedy.”
His tone said he knew something she didn’t. It wasn’t something she cared much for, especially now when she was relaxed, warm and satisfied.
She stepped away from him, piqued for no good reason.
“Let’s hit the road, lhiannan.”
“What does that word mean?”
He paused, as if measuring his words. “Nothing. A Gaelic endearment.”
She knew he was lying. Something told her she should push it, but what would it gain her? She was happy having a sexual relationship with him for as long as it lasted. And did she really expect more from a Terran? But oh, what a ride it was going to be.
“All right. Let’s drive.” And as they drove, she could think.
* * * *
And think she did. She worried she’d become so immersed in the adventure she’d left part of herself, her identity, back in Boston. It didn’t help that she seemed to be hit with stray emotions she couldn’t account for at every turn—angst, anger, even a warm funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was weird, and more than a little unsettling.
Since last night was obviously foremost on her mind, she addressed it first. The sex was great, but she was beginning to like Donovan as a person. Discounting the fact he was a Terran, liking him was a bennie if she was simply acting as the Warden, but when you tossed orgasms into the mix, things got muddy real fast.
She only had to look at her own past to see that.
Kevin—a big, hulking, thoroughly sexy computer programmer—had been a lot of fun to date, and even more to sleep with. He got along great with her family—a small miracle—and was smart and funny. Until he’d gone all squirrelly on her.
She didn’t want a partner who wanted to take care of her. Hell, even her brothers understood that would never happen.
Yeah, she was a librarian, but she was also a woman who wanted her relationships to be fifty-fifty, both in and out of the bedroom. That, in her book, meant experimentation and a never-ending search for the new, the fun.
In Kevin’s case, it had been missionary-style one hundred percent of the time, and when she suggested a video or letting her be on top—gasp—he’d promptly wigged. Hell, it was the eighties. Letting your hair down was the watchword. Apparently Kevin hadn’t heard it.
And the give-and-take of control—or lack thereof—hadn’t been limited to the bedroom after that. Everything from dinner to what they watched on television became a confrontation.
The relationship had been sunk from then on, no matter how hard both tried to pretend nothing untoward had happened. And she had tried, because he was one of the first men she’d taken home her family actually seemed to like. In the end, the pretending had stifled her to the point she had to get out.
She’d wanted excitement, spice, and now she had it in spades with Donovan Callahan. What, if anything, she was going to do about it was the question of the day. What she wanted from Donovan was wild, hot, monkey sex. She didn’t want to like him in the bargain, because even though he definitely had the potential to be a heartless bastard, she’d seen glimpses of more last night. Quick peeks that made her traitorous heart feel things it shouldn’t, even when her brain insisted it was sex. Just fantastic, blow-the-top-of-your-head-off, go-down-in-flames-screaming sex.
Donovan Callahan was a player—he’d said as much about his on-again, off-again fuckfests with Jenalee—and a Terran … and she’d better remember it.
* * * *
They hit San Francisco as the sun began to set. As cold as Boston had been, San Francisco was the exact opposite, almost balmy on this Christmas Eve.
Brenna stared at the famous skyline, enchanted.
Donovan drove with quiet surety, and as she looked at the traffic flowing around them, she was glad he’d offered to take the wheel. Boston was well known for crazed drivers, but she
thought San Francisco ran a close second.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to swing by Jenalee’s before we head to my place. I need to know if she remembers who she talked to.”
It wasn’t all right, not after what they’d shared last night and this morning, but she’d deal with it. “Sure.” She made her voice completely neutral.
He shot her a quick glance she ignored. He wasn’t an idiot, so she gave him a few moments to figure it out.
It didn’t take too long. “Ah, we’ll only be there for a minute, all right?”
She sent him a sweet smile that was, nevertheless, all teeth. “Fine.”
He swallowed audibly and turned his attention to the road. Brenna stifled a grin. While she was perfectly content with playing with Donovan for the time being, she didn’t share … something he’d better realize right up front.
* * * *
The atmosphere of Jenalee’s apartment was thick with Destroyer menace. Brenna held her hand over her mouth and nose and tried not to gag.
“What in the hell?” Donovan’s voice was sick, and in that moment, Brenna knew she wasn’t the only one who could feel a Destroyer. “Jenalee? Mark?”
She cast her senses forward and found the dwelling empty, of Terrans, at least. “No one here.” The room looked fine, with no sign of the damage she’d seen in her own home.
The spike in Donovan’s concern was palpable as he ranged through the living room, the bedrooms, and finally the kitchen.
“Son of a…”
“What?” Brenna joined him beside the refrigerator, eyeing the note beneath a magnet.
“She and Mark took my advice, sort of. They’re laying low in Mexico, at her place there. Dammit,” he grated, “I needed to talk to her about this.”
“I need some fresh air. Can we talk about this outside?”
She must have looked green, because he quickly agreed and herded her out the front door into the night. She breathed the salt-tinged air in deep, expelling the rank air from her lungs.
“Much better. He must have been in there a long time to leave such a signature.”